Triumphant
by illegiblewriter
Summary: *One-shot* ChiChi is experiencing something new, and for once she's not going to be the one in pain any longer. She loves her husband, but the pain she's about to inflict on him feels justified, and even oddly... triumphant.


**Triumphant**

What a strange thing, to be on this side of the story. I'm the one dying this time, and he's the one left behind.

It feels nice.

I can see why he did it so often, now. Dying really isn't anything hard at all, it's being left behind that's tough. Well, maybe now he'll get a taste of his own medicine. It's the bittersweet kind, the kind that heals whatever gaping wounds are in your marriage but fails to remedy your aching heart. Every time Goku came back from the dead, or returned from years lost at space, it was like we were newly weds again. Nothing remained of our previous marriage because whatever hurts we'd caused one another were wiped clean the moment that last breath escaped his body. The moment I'd thought I'd lost him forever was the moment I stopped caring about the details of our lives together and started wishing we'd loved each other just a little bit more. So when he returned, I made sure he got all the loving I thought I hadn't given him the last time. But it just didn't seem like he responded the same way.

Oh he loved me, sure. And he missed me, of that I have no doubt. But dying just doesn't seem to hurt quite so much when you're the one doing it. I never understood why, I thought he should appreciate us even more. But actually what happens, and I can see it happening to me even now, is that when you're dead you're faced with two possible futures. One in which you may one day return, and the other in which you never do. And in order to prepare yourself for the second, you have to pretend like the first doesn't exist. Because it would be flat out too painful to hope that everything could one day be alright, and then realize that it wouldn't. My husband was never good with words, so maybe that's why it's taken me so long to figure it out.

Actually, Goku and I never really spoke with words. Well, I mean we talked, especially me, but a real conversation was much more subtle than anyone else cares to listen to. We talk in our actions. I clean, I cook, I worry about him and fawn over him and Gohan, and I dress his wounds, and make his clothes and take care of him when he's sick. That's just me telling him that I love him. And he always spoke back: he brought in the firewood, and put his dishes away nicely, brought home lovely flowers, babysat Gohan on a bad day, and saved the world a few times. That's how he told me he loved me. And I understood, just as much as he did.

What I don't think others get, especially Goku's friends, is what the yelling meant. Yelling—it's really just a filler. Something you do when you don't have anything else to say, like an "um", or "I guess so," or something equally mundane. Yelling is the part of the conversation you can ignore. And thank Kami that Goku knew that, because not many people do. I don't even think my father understood that.

That's where I am now, alone in my father's castle. He died a few years after Goku left with the dragon, and I've been taking care of the place ever since. It's just as well, I was in that small cottage in the middle of the woods for awhile, and it's nice to return home. I'm technically queen—now that father has passed (wouldn't Vegeta be jealous?)—but monarchy isn't what it used to be here on earth. Chiaotzu leaves the running of his empire to the businessmen and lawyers, and the Ox Kingdom has been moving in that direction for decades now. They really just need someone to stay at the palace and look important, which I certainly can do. To be back in my childhood bedroom, where I spent so many years preparing for my life as a mother and wife, and to now be preparing for another life altogether, an afterlife, is fulfilling in its own cyclical way. After all, I never gave much consideration to my afterlife, what would I do and who would I like to be with—but now that I've been given the time, I realize I don't have quite enough. The afterlife is a long time, much longer than my lifetime has been, and _that_ took me almost a decade to prepare for!

But it's all going to be fine. When I think about what I'll do—or rather, what I_ won't _do, I get very excited. So much so that I almost can't wait to get there! So much freedom, the kind I've never had before. I won't have to worry about my father's health or my wayward husband dying again, or how Gohan and his new family are getting along. It's all taken care of! I can just _sit there_ and be happy. It's the kind of independence I've only ever dreamed of. I love my family—my husband and sons and grandchildren, my father and all of our friends—but in my childhood naivite I assumed that if I loved something then it should consume my whole life. But… _but_… if I have no life to consume then… I don't have to give anything up! I can love my family with my whole heart and it won't mean that I'm sacrificing the opportunity to be a queen or a businesswoman: because those things don't exist anymore. I'm not a princess who gave up an entire kingdom for her childhood crush. No more old couples prodding into my life, wondering where that "no good jobless husband of mine" has gone off to. No more tutors prancing about my house thinking I married below my class. What a relief!

Oh, yes, life is going to be much better this time around. When I'm dead.

A wave suddenly sweeps over me. _When I'm dead. _

I lied a little earlier, when I said dying wasn't scary. It's terrifying actually, I just forget about it sometimes and my mind fools itself into thinking that I'm actually very happy about it. And I am, sometimes, but other times I'm not. Mostly I've just accepted it, and try not to explore any doubts or fears that might be lingering in the back of my head.

I mean, was my life really such a waste? No! I did everything I wanted to do, and I didn't really care about what other people thought of it. So all that independence that I mentioned earlier—it really doesn't mean anything. I never _wanted _independence, let alone dreamed of it, so why should I start now? But it's about to be forced onto me. All I ever wanted was to take care of my husband and children, but if they're still here while I'm gone... _then _what?

I can't help but sigh, and it hurts ever so slightly. I really am old now. I always thought I was getting too old, but there's no denying it now. Goku wouldn't be able to look at me in my current state, laugh, and say, "you're just as young as ever Chi, stop worrying!" Oh no, I'm nowhere near as young as ever. Nowhere near.

I wonder if I'll still be this old in the afterlife. That'd be something, wouldn't it?

I wonder if Goku will come find me after he separates from the dragon. Dende told me about it: he said that once he died there a new Kami would have to create a different set of dragonballs because the old ones wouldn't have his power to draw from anymore. And once the dragonballs turn permanently to stone, Goku will be released. Well that's something. He keeps trying to die but they just won't let him. I have a sneaking suspicion that no one is going to try and stop _me_.

I wonder if he can see me from where he is. I wonder if he'll see me die. I wonder how he'll feel.

He's never seen anyone die slowly before. They always go out quickly, somewhere in the heat of battle. Even Goku has never experienced a prolonged death. I get to enter into this uncharted territory, where no warrior of mine has yet passed. Normally, Goku just went out in a great flash of light: one moment he was there and the next he wasn't. The closest he's ever experienced to what I'm going through right now is when he contracted that heart virus all those years ago. Let me tell you, that was a lot more painful than watching him die, gloriously defending the earth, and vanishing in a great ball of light. Watching the struggle between life and death: it's unnerving.

I feel a little bitter, sadistic even, but I'm glad I'm the one going out this time. He thought it was funny when he returned after Buu's defeat and I bawled like a baby. "If this is how you're crying now," he joked, "how bad was it after I died?"

Haha, Goku. You're so clever.

That may be the one thing I never forgive him for. Our fights over Gohan, whether or not he should fight, or leave for Namek or whatever else we argued over: I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive him to choosing not to come back after Cell.

I _understand_, of course, but I certainly never liked it. There was a time when I accepted it, but as I've grown older, rather than letting it go it's festered. We lost seven years together because of that decision. When I thought we had a lifetime together, seven years didn't seem that bad. But then he left again with the dragon, and all of a sudden our lifetime was cut short. Seven years now seems like an incredibly long time that we should have had. That _I _should have had. I have spent more of my life single and widowed than I have married. I married when I was twenty, and am dying at eighty. You do the math.

But I can at least console myself with the knowledge that he loved me, _loves _me, and that none of this was either of our faults. Never was there a marriage where neither spouse blamed the other so less frequently than we did. Everything wrong with us was the fault of someone else. Someone who didn't take the vows that we did. Maybe in the next lifetime, we'll have the opportunity to make our own mistakes, instead of letting his enemies do it for us.

What a strange thing, to be on this side of the story. I'm the one dying this time, and he's the one left behind.

It feels nice.

**A/n:** Eh, short. Kinda rambling. But the idea's been bouncing around for awhile. Let me know if you think I should rewrite it.

Please review! I only love people who review!


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